The Discovery of Memories
by Mr.Marr
Summary: When Jody is musing about memories, and playing by herself, she discovers something that she doesn't understand. She brings attention to this to Mike, because she thinks that he'd be able to know what it's about. She was right, and soon, everyone gets tied up in the memories locked in the manuscripts. But what does everyone think about it?


**OK, so it took me nearly two hours to write this, or maybe just an hour and a half. I wrote it all tonight (12th January 2013) and it's just gone 11PM. I hope you enjoy this, I did like it as I wrote it, the ideas just appeared to me. I guess this story takes place straight after 1x03 of The Dumping Ground, hence the references to memories.**

Jody Jackson went to her room pitifully. It wasn't particularly fair that Tyler had lost his most important memories just because of one altercation. Then again, nothing was fair. The memories she had were terrible, full of regret and pain. But now, all she had to look forward to was life in care. It was unlikely that she'd be reunited with her family, but that was OK; she didn't really have a certain "favourite" of hers, on something to expect from her family. What she had was her room. The wardrobe.

"I'm gonna play a game now," she said. She opened the wardrobe door ever so carefully. "It's time to hide from Ms Magreedy! I didn't meant to break her window!" She stepped inside, covered by the tops of hers that she imagined as thick coats. "Quick Susan! Peter, she'll never find us here! Edmund, you've been here before, c'mon."

Jody changed her tone of voice. "Be careful Lucy, you're only so little, we don't want you to be squashed up in the wardrobe." Jody resumed her normal voice. "Oh, but I've been there before. The snow is coming, it will be so cold! Ouch!" Jody unintentionally banged her head against the back of the wardrobe. "I guess this isn't Narnia. Just the back of this stupid closet. It's so dark in here, her, what's this?"

She felt the rustle of something against her skin. Grabbing hold of it, she exited the ominous hiding place and inspected the thing she found. "Wow, this is well old!" She was holding a stack of pages, yellowed with age, gossamers of spidery writing covering the papers. She tried to read the title at the top. "_My... tiding found it have_... I can't read this. Where did this come from anyway?"

* * *

"What?" Rick looked up from his magazine to Jody who asked him a question.

"I found this in my room and I don't know what it says. Can you read it to me?" Rick looked at the notes she had. "Are you sure you got this from your room, not a bin? Wow, there's a lot of writing. I can't read that." He looked at the title. "_My tive u found_... No... that doesn't make sense... Try to ask Mike and Gina, they should be old enough to translate this text."

Jody left the main room to go to the office, where Mike and Gina were. She tried her luck with Mike. "Mike, do you know what these are? It was in my room."

Mike put on his glasses to peer at the manuscripts. "The handwriting is terrible... no... wait. It's really old."

"Rick said that you'd be able to understand it; it's as old as you." "Haha," said Mike. "No, this looks like it came from the early 20th Century, see it's got a date. Blimey, Summer 1903? That's about 110 years ago."

"What else does it say? I can't read the title."

Mike squinted through his glasses. "_My time in foundling home_... oh wow... This is interesting..."

"What?" said Jody. She was curious to know what it meant.

"Foundling is another word for an abandoned child... I think this is someone's old scrolls or diary for when they lived here. Strange that you found these, we only have records from the last 60 years."

Gina was now interested. "Wha' ya mean, Mike? It's like the time capsule we discovered throughout time, yeah?"

"Even better than time capsules," said Mike. "We've found antique memories of a child, a Victorian one that lived here..."

* * *

At lunch, everyone was seated, eating silently as Mike promised that he would read out the texts throught the hour. He had to translate a lot of the sentences because no one comprehended the language used.

Carmen said, "That story seems sad... I can't believe his parents just left him when he was one week old... Who knew that mums and dads were so harsh that time?"

Johnny said, "Carmen, why are you so surprised? This was the Victorian times. Conditions were so bad for everyone in the city. Especially around here."

"Shh..." said Mike. "I'm trying to continue this bit now." Gus was taking noted as he ate. What he had learnt was that the manuscripts were written by a child alternating between his childhood and when he was 60. Each part had different dates; he has started writing them when he was 10 (in 1903) and finished by the age of 21 (1914). The bits that were beneath the dates were entries he's written as a child, but on the back of each page was a reflection of the grown-up him, written in more legible handwriting. Here was one of the earliest entries, as translated by Mike.

"_i sometimes wonder about my past. I do not know much about myself, as I don't have a birth certificate, yet I was born around 1893. Today in this foundling home I studied my schoolwork. At the age of 10, I know that I should be trying a lot harder. But the teacher is prejudiced because I come from the foundling home. It's not fair that we live like this, and we get hate from other local children from the school."_ And here was what was written on the back of that page, now as an elderly man, in 1953:

"_Though I cringe at the memory of the cruelness of school, I do not regret my education. It has made me what I've become now, and though I despised the teachers (who are, of course, deceased now) , I give my gratitude to their souls for helping me academically._"

"Wait wait," said Tyler. "What does he mean 'what I've become now'? He didn't even mention how he turned out."

"I think you have to wait, Tyler," said Tee. "Mike's only just started reading it, I think we find out later."

"Quite right," said Mike. "OK, here's the next page."

Elektra found herself subconsciously listening to the stories. Although they were sources of the past, she couldn't help thinking of a certain foundling that the boy mentioned in his entries. The boy (Albert) said that this 12 year old foundling girl had moved to the home one day. This girl had constant nightmares that affected her behaviour. One morning, the girl had woken up to find that she accidentally pulled out pieces of her hair. This scared Elektra. When she was about six years old, Elektra used to have nightmares about her mother being too nice to her sister Melissa, while she was the ignored daughter. Elektra used to stretch her hair at night, hoping that it would help her get rid of her dreams, but all it did was cause stress.

"Hey, it finally explains what he did for his career," said Mike. "He was a doctor."

"What kind of doctor?" asked Faith.

"Hmm... struggling to find it... oh, a paediatrician. "

"A what?" asked Jody.

"A doctor who specialises with children, well, babies," said Frank.

"I guess he wanted to help the ones that meant the most to him," said Rick.

Carmen had a flashback. "Oh no," she whispered. She stopped eating and cast her mind to what had happened.

* * *

Her mum was out. She was only 7 years old, by herself. "No they're too long." She looked at her fingernails. "What's that thing Mum used to cut them?" She searched around the house but couldn't find them. She saw the scissors waiting for her on the living room table. "I'll use these then." She found out that the scissors weren't much help, they made her nails looks broken. Where were the nail clippers when she really needed...

"Ow!" Carmen looked down at the gush of blood leaking from her middle finger. "Ow ow ow ow ow! I need a plaster!" But she didn't know where those were either. She dropped the scissors to the floor and frantically rushed around the house. Then she noticed the tissue roll at the far end of the room. As she went towards it, she tripped over the teddy bear on the floor and...SNIP! She had fallen straight on the scissors, leaving a cut on her arm bigger than the one on her finger. Sobbing, she tried to get up, nut felt faint because of the blood.

At that moment, her mum decided to return home, and gasped when she saw poor Carmen in the living room.

"It was a bad accident," Carmen told the doctor, looking at her mum for reassurance.

"Don't worry," said the doctor. "I make children feel better; here's some antiseptic that might sting for a bit. You're lucky that you have a mother that brings you here when you'r injured. Some parents are not so nice." Carmen frowned at her mum.

* * *

"I think I'm gonna go to my room," said Carmen, picking up her plate.

"Don't you want to hear the rest of the story?" asked Gina.

"Yeah I will. Someone tell me later. I'm just a bit tired."

Elektra said, "Oh, I'll come with you, Carmen." Everyone stared at Elektra, but said nothing. "What? I'm not in the mood either."

* * *

"Something upset you, innit?" Carmen said to Elektra.

"Shut up, no, I just didn't like it."

"OK," said Carmen. "But I noticed your face; it looked a bit sad rather than angry when Mike was speaking."

"Look, I don't want to talk about it, it's better off staying in my head."

"OK," repeated Carmen. "I just find it a little sad, about Albert. He didn't have a good childhood, but he got a good job. And he acually lived in this house."

"I really don't care," said Elektra. "Umm... but I agree with you. It's good to know that things weren't terrible 100 years ago. They were just kids like us."

"Hmm... I think I want to go back to listen to it, it's so interesting."

"Yeah, I'll join you later..." Elektra watched Carmen leave her room. "Don't touch any of my stuff," warned Carmen.

* * *

Harry patiently listened to Mike. What had intrigued him was of the imaginary friend that Albert had had when was 14. "When I'm that old," he thought, "will I still think that Jeff is real?" Jeff has first come from his mother when he was three years old. Jeff was just a shoddy toy with unmoving eyes. Harry hadn't even remembered his mother, or when he got the original Jeff. It was Sapphire who introduced him to the imaginary world.

He was four years old; he remembered that Sapphire looked a lot younger than she was now, barely a teenager.

"Harry?" she said. "I threw away Jeff this morning, I don't think you should play with that dirty old thing anymore. So I went shopping and I got you this." Sapphire produced a new-looking giraffe toy. This looked much better than the old toy he had. "I want that Jeff, Fire. Looks better than old Jeff, Fire."

"That's why I got him for you, Harry. Don't call me Fire anymore. Say Sapphire."

"So fire."

Sapphire laughed. "It's good enough. Now Harry, take care of new Jeff for me... Keep him for long, he's your new friend while I go to school, OK?"

"New Jeff is friend," Harry repeated. "When So Fire is at school."

"Good boy, Harry." She kissed his short blond hair.

* * *

"Why did he have an imaginary friend if he was 14?" brought up Jody.

"I think he felt alone when he was at school," said Faith. "Maybe he just wanted time to himself."

"That's what I thought," said Mike. "Early 1900s were quite tough before the First World War. Hey, I noticed that he didn't write much towards the war years. Probably had to save ink for schoolwork only... well, further education, maybe. Or maybe he was just hiding a secret those years. We'll never know."

Faith thought about her golden jewellery. She felt guilty for keeping her past hidden to the others. But it was Jody who was searching through her things! If Jody had found it, she would tell the others. "No, I don't want them to find out yet."

"What? said Johnny, who was sitting next to her.

"What what?" She said, stunned.

"You just said something to yourself."

"Did I?" Faith didn't realise she's spoken out loud. Johnny let it go. There was something awkward about Faith, but he didn't question it. She was a kind girl. He didn't have any disputes with her, and she _was_ on his side during the liberty week at the Dumping Ground.

"The last bit now," said Mike. "Around the time he believed he was 21, right before the war began. Here's the 1914 entry._ My writing must come to an end, I'm too old for this now. Maybe in about 40 years I'd look back on these pages. I noticed that on the back of each page is blank. When I'm older, I shall write on these as an adult to reflect on my youth. That is, if I survive long enough. After all, I see great turmoil coming to Britain. Goodbye Albert. Do good at university and fulfil your dreams_."

"Nutter," said Elektra. "Writing to himself."

"Be quiet," said Tee.

"Elektra, I'm sure you write to yourself in your poetry books," mentioned Gina, while the others smirked.

"Oh shut up," glared Elektra, sorry that she had commented.

"OK, and the last bit as an adult," said Mike, turning the page to look at the back. "_I'm glad that my life has turned out like this. From just a foundling at a home, I never knew my parents. I have children of my own now, I will never leave them. Two of my daughters have children, and my only son is abroad. Goodbye, Albert. You have done so well in your life, it has been a great effort."_

Carmen was teary-eyed through that speech. "So sad..."

"I liked it," said Tee. "It had a happy ending, though we didn't find out a lot about him."

"Yeah," said Frank. "But he was a grandparent who stayed by his children. It's a good ending."

"But what was it doing in my wardrobe?" questioned Jody.

"There's a simple explanation," said Gina. "When my grandparents were in Jamaica, they told me stories about how they lived. They would write on leaves, paper, walls even to make their mark. But one thing that me gran told me was this: Stories must remain where they rooted from. Albert probably had the same feelings. Maybe he, or hos children took his scripts back here one day, where his memories belonged."

Jody smiled. "It all seems so simple now. I'm glad I was playing The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe this morning."

"Well, this has been interesting," said Mike. "We should definitely treasure this; the oldest stories of Elm Tree House, under a different name."

"Well I want to hear the best bits again," said Tyler.

"Me too," agreed Rick. "Who knew that memories could be so important?"

"Oh yeah, me as well," said Carmen. "I missed some bits of it."

"I guess I should too," said Faith, "I wasn't really listening from the beginning."

"I'll photocopy these," said Mike. "I'll try and get someone to type up a modern version, the originals cannot get lost."

And Gus was looking through his notes. "But why does his stories mean so much to everyone here?" He said to himself.

"You're a nutter," said Tyler. "With your notebooks, you're doing exactly what he did. You're probably a reincarnation of him."

Gus smiled, which was something he rarely did. "Then my notebooks would be treasured some day. And they would remain where they rooted from!"

"Well, it is a good way of keeping memories," said Tyler, thinking about how he should keep track of his.

"I'm off to play Narnia," said Jody. "Maybe _Prince Caspian_ this time..."

**Well that was long. I hope you give a concise, thorough review of this because I worked ever so hard at writing it. It's 00:25AM now, I just went over midnight typing it up. Hope you enjoyed!**


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